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Reality faded.

Just before unconsciousness swallowed me, two shots were fired. I braced for the pain. I’d never been shot before, but there should have been pain.

The last thought that formed before the blackness swallowed me whole was a delusional cackle.Shit...I hope Death is kind.

Chapter 2 – Markos

Andrej collapsed, crumpling to a heap on the ground. I would have picked the delivery man up and thrown him farther, but that would have created distance between me and the girl. So I continued to stand over her as I sent a warning look to the second man racing forward. He slowed.

“Just as promised!” that one called out. His accent was thick, but he had the good sense to stay away. “We did it, sir!”

Did it? They called this completing their assignment? My fist tightened at my side, fingers itching to reach for my weapon. This was what came of hiring outside help for a job.

“Ack, rotten luck, your bride’s face is a mess,” my cousin muttered.

I crouched before Danica. She lifted her head. Despite the streaked makeup and battered skin, she was beautiful. I stared at her, momentarily captured by some subliminal pull of her dark brown gaze.

But then reason caught up to me.

This wasn’t Danica.

Those thick, black lashes blinked slowly. With a little shake, the woman tried again to focus on me. Her eyes were brown, not blue. That was the first clue. As I tried to wrap my head around what a major fuck up this situation was, I could only stare into that hot, fierce gaze.

Whoever she was, she was still fighting.

Until nature won the battle, and she sagged to the ground. Those brown eyes rolled into the back of her head. She lost consciousness.

I didn’t have to think, I simply acted. My hand shot to my waistband, fingers eagerly gripping the metal. A split second to aim, and then two shots rang out.

“Theos! What the hell, man?” Iosif groaned.

My cousin should be used to my unpredictability by now. We’d only spent the last two and a half decades together, and the only constant was change. A couple yards away the Slavic mercenaries howled, rolling about the ground. I would deal with their mess in a minute.

I rested my pistol on my knee, glancing down at the unconscious woman. Fuck! She was small, maybe five feet at the most. There wasn’t much muscle on her lithe frame, and the curves were slight. Her body would blow away in the first strong rush of wind. The delicate build sent a rush of protectiveness through me.

And those marks...angry and swollen. One bled. A bead of crimson trickled across her olive skin.

The sight brought out the killing instinct. Rage blasted from deep within my chest.

Brushing the dark hair off her face, I clenched my jaw tight. Fuck, but she was gorgeous. Even fueled by fear, running for her life, and tragically bruised, she hadn’t been broken.

The last thing I saw before she fainted was the fire in her eyes. It was nothing short of mesmerizing.

I pushed to my feet. The pistol tapped rhythmically against my thigh as I crossed to the mercenaries. “Which one of you touched her?”

Strings of English and their native tongue spewed in a garbled mix.

“No, you’ve got it all wrong.” I stood over their prostrate forms. “You didn’thaveto rough her up. You were hired for a simple snatch and grab.”

“They’re saying she fought back,” Iosif mused.

“That doesn’t matter.” I rubbed my chin with the back of my hand. “When I hired them to do a collection and transportationjob, I was assured the lady would arrive in good order. She did not.”

My finger squeezed around the trigger twice more. Now all four kneecaps were shattered beyond repair. There was no chance of these men escaping.

I nodded to Iosif. “Have a crew take them fishing.”

Iosif pulled out his phone, muttering about the mess.